• Published 30th Oct 2015
  • 9,598 Views, 414 Comments

The Adventures of Batsy Fluffentuft the Magnificent - ocalhoun



Batsy Fluffentuft (not the most respected of the lunar guards, and in fact on super-probation from Princess Luna herself) manages to escape into the town of Canterlot and have herself an adventure.

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Batsy Fluffentuft II: The Search for Showers

I glide down into Canterlot proper again, leaving my silly comrades to work on fishing me out of the castle's sewer system. They'll get over it, I'm sure, and we'll all laugh about it later. Fun times. And the bathroom needs to be redone anyway – it smells funny and the tiles are ugly.

Drifting lower, I alight on top of one of Canterlot's many spires.

A few pigeons flutter, sending me into a well-practiced and very appropriate combat stance before I assess the threat and find them to be harmless. To say I was startled or something would be a gross oversimplification of a very complex and finely honed combat reaction reflex.

Of course, that jump leaves me sliding down the roof of the spire, my hooves squeaking as they slide across the smooth surface. As the roof steepens, I slide faster, until I finally lose my grip entirely and fall backward, just barely catching a rain gutter with my back hooves. It rattles and creaks ... but at least it doesn't break and fall.

No matter. I'm perfectly comfortable hanging upside down, and this is a perfect vantage point for watching the city.

Where should I go to find a shower? Well, what kinds of places have showers? I can't go back to the barracks, not now that they're looking for me. I can't even sneak into the day guards' barracks – what if they search the plumbing in the whole building and find me showering there? I'm pretty good at explaining things away (I have a way with words), but that would be a challenge even for me.

So no barracks then, but barracks buildings are only one of the many different kinds of places that have showers. I may not know all that much about day ponies, but I'm sure they have showers somewhere. I could go to a hotel, maybe. Hotels definitely have showers in them, and they're open to anypony. That's a plus. The downside, though, is that they also charge money, and I don't have any. I could just go get some money ... that's one option. But that's also risky. Maybe there's a better way.

What else? Ponies have showers in their houses, but they're not free for just anypony to use ... or are they? I smiled an upside-down smile. All I'll need to do is lay on a little bit of my magnificent Batsy charm, and I'm sure anypony I ask will be happy to let me use their shower. Maybe they'll even take it with me ... flirty group showers are my favorite kind of shower!

With that decided, I release my back legs and let myself plummet down the side of the building.

Relax, okay? I'm a bat pony. You know, with wings and all, and totally used to swooping down like this? With an expert angling of my wings, I arc upward ... and straight into a tree.

Ow. The tree rustles back and forth, loose leaves dropping from it.

Shaking my head to clear the stars from my vision, I congratulate myself on my excellent choice in landing spots. From inside this tree, I can look out over a wide town square and watch all the ponies here, picking out the perfect one to ask for a shower. Now there are leaves and twigs stuck in my mane in addition to the dust and cobwebs, but that's nothing a shower can’t also fix. The important part is to pick which pony will have the honor of letting me use their shower.

There's a mother and her three little children, one of them in a stroller ... no, she looks too busy. An elderly businessmare in a black pantsuit ... I take one look at her pointed muzzle, her slicked-back mane, the permanent scowl on her face, and I dismiss her. She looks way too mean and stingy to be giving anything away for free, no matter how charming the bat pony asking her is.

But not all the prospects are bad. There's a lanky colt trying to make a few bits by juggling on the street corner ... he might not have a shower, but if he does, I'm sure he'll be happy to let me use it. A couple old stallions are playing chess under the very tree I'm in, brushing new-fallen leaves out of their sparse manes ... it would make their day to have a mare like me paying attention to them. And there's a group of three cute young stallions making their way across the square and laughing at each other's jokes ... a shower with the three of them would be awesome!

The one who really catches my eye, though, is a burly tan stallion in white smock and a little folded cook's hat, with a pink donut on his flank. Me-ow! Now that's somepony I wouldn’t mind seeing all wet in the shower with me!

Of course, I'll keep the others as backup plans – not that I ever need backup plans, but I do always plan everything out thoroughly in advance. It's why I always succeed at everything I do.

They say that no plan survives first contact with the enemy, though. Since my plan didn't survive first contact with the ground, I have to conclude that the ground is my enemy. The moment I touch down, everypony in the square looks at me. The next moment, they all run away, screaming about Canterlot being invaded again. Even the hot guy with the donut flank ran!

In the now-empty square, I sit on top of the abandoned chess board, pieces scattered around me, and pout. I mean, I know my utter magnificence is hard to take in all at once, but they could at least try to be civil.

Well, it looks like my search for a free shower will have to continue, so I get up, pick a street, and start going down it. I'll just have to be sure to introduce the next batch of day ponies to me a little more gradually, so they can handle how amazing I am.

This street clears out pretty quickly as well, which is disappointing, but one voice calls out from a nearby alley, “Psst! Hey, you. Yeah, you. You looking for something, eh? I can find it for you.”

Now that sounds like just the thing! I trot over into the alley, glad that things were going so well so quickly.

Inside, I find an old unicorn stallion in a trenchcoat. His right eye twitches rapidly and his horn is tilted crookedly to one side for some reason, but he gives me a big toothy smile, so I immediately know he was a good and helpful pony.

“What is it you're looking for, Miss? I've got everything! Magic tomes and potions, all one hundred and ten percent genuine. I tell you, I've got love potions, wealth-attracting totems, growth spells and shrinking spells, and even the cure to the common cold!” He lays a friendly hoof across my shoulders and points to his little wagon. “Now a lot of this is magic that you won't find even in the Canterlot Archives – really high-level stuff. Ever hear that Twilight Sparkle became an alicorn princess? What they don't tell you is that she got the potion for it from me! But I can already tell you're my favorite kind of pony, so for you I'll make a good deal.”

“Neat,” I say.

He saunters over to his wagon and leans against it, the very picture of confidence. “So ... what is it that you're looking for, little lady? I'm Honest Goldie, and if it's not in my wagon, then I know a guy who can get it – Honest Goldie never fails.”

This is perfect! I'm not sure why his name is 'Honest Goldie' if his fur is grey, but I'm pretty sure I can trust him if his name is 'Honest'. “Okay, I need a shower.”

He pauses, and he has to blink for a few times before he seems to understand. “A ... shower?”

I nod.

“I... I see. Right, then I'm sure I could find just the right thing...” He goes around behind his wagon and starts rummaging around. A couple moments later, he comes to me with a very legitimate-looking spell book and shows the front cover to me.

101 Love Spells That Are Shure To Woo Your Soulmate

THE WORLD'S MOST CONVENIENT SHOWER SPELL

A spell for every romantic BATHING need.

It sounds perfect! But... “But I don't have a horn. How am I supposed to use a spell?” I wish I had a horn. Things would be a lot easier if I was a bat pony alicorn princess.

“Well, I can't perform the spell for you, not with my horn skewed to the side, unfortunately.” He winks at me. “But I'm sure a filly as charming as you could get any unicorn you asked to do a quick spell for you.”

He does have a point there. I reach to open the book, but he yanks it away.

“Nah-ah-ah! I'm afraid there's no previews until you've bought it. Just twenty bits and all your, um ... shower dreams will come true!”

Oh. He wants money? That's going to be a problem. Where am I going to get twenty bits? I cringe.

He must have seen the cringe, though. “Oh, but don't worry, Miss. That price is just the normal price. For someone as lovely as you, I could easily go as low as fifteen bits.”

Ah, so it would just take a little bargaining, then. “How about negative ten bits?”

“Huh?” His face goes blank. “You mean, you want me to pay you to take it? That's absurd.”

I lean in. “You drive a hard bargain, mister. Negative five bits, but that's as high as I can go.” Perfect ... any moment now, we'll agree on 'free' as a reasonable compromise, and I'll be one step closer to getting that shower. This guy should have known better than to deal with a businessmare as sharp as me!

Just that moment, though, three day pony guards bustle into the alley, completely blocking the way back into the street. Crap! They've found me!

“Clear!” one calls out. “No invaders.”

Two of them turn to leave, but one stays, squinting and rubbing his chin with a hoof. “Hey, aren't you...”

I'm really sweating it now. If they've recognized me, my whole day is going to be ruined!

“Yes!” the guard says, drawing the attention of the other two. “You're Silver Swindleton, aren't you! You've had an arrest warrant out for months.”

The old stallion begins backing away from the guards. “I – I don't know who you’re talking about. My name is Honest Goldie, honest!”

They're not buying it, though, and they advance on him, using an encircling maneuver right out of the guardspony textbook.

He darts off down the alley, taking the magic shower book with him, unfortunately, and two of the guards give chase. They soon disappear around a tight corner, and I have no idea what became of them or the precious book after that.

The one remaining guard, though... He's looking at me the same way he just looked at Honest Goldie. “You look familiar, too...”

I gulp. “Oh, probably not. Us bat ponies don't go out much...”

“No, you really do look familiar... I'm pretty sure I've seen your face and cutie mark on one of the barracks bulletin boards. But I can't remember what exactly it was...”

Crap crap crap, triple crap! He's seen the posters of me that Princess Luna put up, the ones that say I'm supposed to be supervised at all times. Not good! But if I run now, it'll look super-suspicious. There's still a chance that—

“I know! You probably won guardspony of the month recently, didn't you?”

I stare for a moment. “Um, yeah! That must be it.”

He shakes my hoof. “Well congratulations! Enjoying some time off as your reward, aren't you?”

“You bet!” I smile so wide my cheeks hurt a little.

“Tell me, tell me, how did it feel to be personally recognized and congratulated by the Princesses? It must be so incredible, I can't even imagine!”

“Ah, yeah... It was, um, great.” This can't be working. Can I really be pulling this off? Wait, of course I can. I'm me after all! I should be guardspony of the month every month.

“Any advice for a first-year guardspony? What's your secret? How do you get the Princesses to notice you?” His eagerness is painful to behold.

Actually, I wish Princess Luna would notice me less often. “Um... hard work and dedication?”

“Amazing! I'm also going to work hard and be—” He stops for a moment, blinking. “Oh gosh darn it! If I'm going to be dedicated like you, I'd better do my job right now, huh?” After quickly marching over to the abandoned wagon, he gives me a sharp salute. “I need to secure this evidence, Ma'am. And I should stop pestering you. Have a wonderful day off, and congratulations again for being guardspony of the month!”

I nervously return his salute, and I zip out of there faster than I've flown since that time I thought my battalion was eating bat treats without me (turns out, it was just a trick to get me to attend a staff meeting – never again!)

Once I'm well clear of the area, I set down on a convenient rooftop. Well, that was a bust. And I had been so close to getting my shower, too! Looks like I'm right back where I started.

But there's no reason my original plan shouldn't work just as well as I originally planned it to! I peek over the edge of the roof looking for—

Wow! My eyes are dazzled by the glittering light from a white and blue mare below. Her jewelry is so opulent, so alluring, so ... sparkly!

It takes me a moment to recover from the shock of seeing it. But once I do recover, I realize that I need to have that. If I go to my date wearing jewelry like that, I'll be the most beautiful mare who ever lived ... and if I'm the most beautiful mare who ever lived, I'll get laid for sure!

Grinning, I follow the mare, flitting from rooftop to rooftop, completely invisible to everyone. (Well, unless they look up. But I'm pretty sure none of them are looking up.)

After following her for a while, she leads me to an opulent mansion right at the upper end of Canterlot's residential district. I spend a moment appreciating the architecture ... ooh, swanky! Someday, once ponies appreciate me for who I am, I'll live in a house like that.

She stops at the door and painstakingly opens a long series of complicated-looking locks. Once they're undone, she slips inside and with my acute hearing, I can hear each lock clicking back into place. There are at least six of them.

Wow. Now that's a lot of security. But a bit of security can't keep Batsy Fluffentuft from borrowing jewelry. Princess Celestia can attest to that, and she has the best security in the world!

I fly over to the top of that house and perch on the chimney. Surely, if I just think about it for a moment, I can find away around those stupid door locks... The windows? Well, if she put that much effort into securing the door, she's probably got some kind of alarm spell on the windows. Back door? Maybe, but again, somepony who puts so much effort into securing the front door probably wouldn't leave the back door hanging open. I could burrow beneath the...

Wait. There's a bit of breeze on my rump, and that's weird. I look down and of course! The chimney! I'll be just like Santa Hooves!

I am such a genius sometimes. All the time, actually.

As big as it is, the chimney is a tight squeeze, but thankfully there's no smoke because it's the middle of summer. Still, I have to just kind of wiggle back and forth and let gravity pull me down through. It takes ages, and I'm glad nopony can see me inside here, because while this might be the most ingenious way to sneak into a house, it definitely isn't the most glamorous.

Finally, I pop free from the chimney pipe and fall into a big fireplace. Black dust puffs out all around me, and I have to wait for it to settle before I can blink it out of my eyes and check the room.

Thankfully, nopony was in this particular room. Nothing but a bunch of books and a few big couches. That's the thing about having a big house, I guess, you end up having a lot of empty rooms for no reason.

Shrugging that off, I creep across the white-carpeted floor to the room's doorway. Nopony in the hallway either.

Excellent. I'll be in and out of here without anypony ever noticing me, completely without any trace. When I look behind me, though, I see a series of black hoofprints on the white carpet, leading up to where I'm standing. Crap! Well, I'll clean that up later. For now, I start flying instead, hovering above the carpet so I don't get it any dirtier.

I'll just clean it before I leave. That'll work. With a cringe, I realize I've only succeeded in making myself even dirtier so far. But there's nothing I can do about that – it had to be done.

Slowly, I fly down the hall, peeking in through each doorway to try and find where all that amazing jewelry might have gotten to. A couple doors down, and bingo!

Through the open doorway, I see that same mare, and she's busy taking off all those incredible jewels. It's a process that takes several minutes, but I hover in rapt attention the whole time, watching each glittery piece getting carefully placed on the polished cabinet in front of her.

As soon as she's done, she turns toward me and heads for the door.

It's okay, though. With my lightning-fast reflexes, I dart upward. Hanging silently from the high ceiling, I watch her walk right underneath me and go into another door directly across the hall, closing it behind her.

Phew, close one.

Now all that jewelry is just sitting there, completely unguarded. It would be irresponsible for me to leave something so scintillating all alone and unappreciated, wouldn’t it? I'm sure that mare wouldn’t mind me keeping her jewelry company for the rest of the day. I'll return it, of course, good as new. As soon as I'm done with it.

I sneak inside and gaze in awe upon the awesome spread of shiny metal and gems. All laid out like this, it covers most of the countertop. When I reach my hoof out to grab the first and biggest piece, though, I notice just how filthy my hooves are ... dust and cobwebs from that basement, a couple leaves stuck to the cobwebs, and all of it covered in that fine black ash from the fireplace.

I can't touch it now! I'll get it all dirty too, and then I'll have to wash it before I can be the most beautiful mare in the world!

From the door across the hall, I hear the sound of a shower starting.

A shower, of course! That's the solution! I should have known I'd find one eventually if I just followed the trail of my own awesomeness.

The decidedly not-awesome part of it, though, is that it looks like I'll have to wait for her to be done with her shower before I can get one.

I settle down in front of the countertop and amuse myself for a while just taking in the marvelous array of jewelry. Dozens of golden hoof bands, ruby-encrusted tail clips, a chest piece to rival Princess Celestia's, loops and loops of glittering necklaces, a few diamond earrings, and a gorgeous tiara set with dozens of diamonds and one big ruby to top it all off.

Still, looking at the sparkles can't entertain a bat pony as sophisticated as me forever. And that mare's shower is taking forever.

So I move on to rummaging through her room, why not? It's something to do. One of the few things on the countertop other than jewelry is a picture frame, and it shows the mare I followed together with some stallion. The same stallion who was trying to get protection money from Taffy Winkle earlier today! Huh. I never knew that guy was so popular, but apparently this mare thought that getting her picture taken with him was important enough to memorialize in a framed picture in her bedroom. Day ponies have some weird obsessions, that's for sure.

On top of the nightstand near the bed, there's a tall pile of magazines. But when I pick them up and flip through them, I find that they're all about mane styles, day pony celebrities, clothes, makeup ... boring junk. It's hard to tell the difference between the ads and the articles, since both seem to be mostly about perfumes or hair goop or something.

I toss the magazine I was flipping through aside, and it flutters down, sliding under the bed. A moment later, I realize I've been intending to leave no trace of my presence here, so I'll need to pick it up and put it back.

When I look under the bed for it, though, there's a lot more than just one magazine down there.

There's the one I tossed, of course, but there's also a neat stack of other ones. Pulling them out, I find that they're all Playcolt magazines. Now this is more interesting reading material! Eagerly, I dig in and start flipping through them, and I spend Goddess only knows how long doing that... (Seriously, though, I was only reading them for the articles. They had several very informative pieces on, um... the politics of... um... articles. Yes. The politics of articles.)

Anyway, while I'm in the middle of enjoying those very informative articles, I get so caught up in them that I don't notice the shower turning off.

The mare comes in, wrapped up in a towel. She closes the door behind her, and only then notices me lying next to her bed and flipping through Playcolt magazines.

We spot each other at almost the exact same time. I freeze, but she screams and bolts ... right into the closed door. The mare wobbles for a bit, then slumps down right in front of it, knocked out cold.

I smirk. Ha! That's me, taking out my enemies from the sheer force of my magnificence alone.

Well, now that the shower's available, I should use it. I have to move the mare away from the door in order to open it, leaving black hoofprints on her and her towel. That's a shame ... now she's going to need another shower. Oh well.

I cross the hall and have to take a moment to simply gasp and stare at the bathroom. There's white marble and gold (or is it brass – I'm really not sure) everywhere, offset by luxurious dark red curtains and a neat rack of folded white towels. Very nice, if a little too shiny for my tastes. When I have my mansion built, I'll have to tell them to tone it down just a little. Maybe replace the marble countertops with polished wood. Yes, that would be nice.

There's a huge jetted tub with a shower head above it in one corner, and I head for that as if approaching a holy relic, almost unable to believe my impeccable skills and planning have finally led me to one. (Thankfully, the mirror along the way is still fogged up, so I don't have to look at how dirty I've gotten.)

I get in, start the water ... and Gaah! That mare used up all the hot water! It's very inconsiderate of her, using it all up and leaving me with this lukewarm-at-best spray. Ugh. Now I'm glad she hit her head on the door and knocked herself out. She deserves it for treating her guests this way.

Still, I need to get cleaned off, so I suffer through it. It's not so bad, actually, once I get used to it ... and I think it's actually warming back up a little as I keep going.

And it's satisfying, watching all the filth rinse off of me, down toward the drain. Goodbye dust, goodbye cobwebs, goodbye leaves and sticks, and best of all, goodbye fireplace soot. The water draining away from me is almost black with the stuff.

I grab a shampoo bottle from the shelf on the wall next to me. It's about half-full of purplish-blue goop that smells like some weird kind of flowers I've never smelled before. Shrugging, I uncap it and squeeze the whole bottle out onto my mane, my back, and my tail, then toss the empty bottle onto the bathroom floor outside, where it bounces noisily away.

Unfortunately, in my enthusiasm to get clean, I may have used a bit too much. As I scrub myself, the mass of bubbles gets bigger and bigger, until it fills the whole tub. For a moment, I panic, thinking this is going to be just like the time I dumped a whole box of soap into the fountain outside the barracks. (While that did get me put on punitive cleanup duty for three weeks, it also beat a world record for largest mass of bubbles, so that's something.) In time, though, the shower's spray washes my shampoo bubbles away, and things return to normal.

Things returned to better than normal, actually. I stepped out of that tub squeaky-clean. (By which I mean, I squeaked a little to celebrate my cleanliness.) Unfortunately, my squeak may have cracked the bathroom mirror. It's still foggy anyway, though, so I wouldn’t have been able to see my clean magnificence in it anyway.

After drying off with a borrowed towel from the only clean stack far enough away to have escaped the mass of bubbles, I happily trot back across the hall to collect my jewelry.

Oddly, the mare isn't on the floor anymore. She's nowhere to be found.

Well, there's no accounting for the peculiarities of day ponies. I shrug it off and start putting on the jewelry, piece by piece. As I put each one on, I take the time to admire it in the gilded full-height mirror across the room. All this gold and sparkle may have looked dazzling on that mare's white coat ... but with my dark grey fur to contrast it, it's stunning. Truly, this is the way I was always meant to look.

Just as I put the finishing touch of the tiara on, though, and before I even get a chance to look at in the mirror, three stallions burst into the room, all of them armed with clubs, and all of them scowling at me.

I'm not scared, of course. I'm a member of the Royal Guard, an elite warrior. And I have the full weight of Equestria's legal system at my back (as long as no other guardsponies find me and report me to Princess Luna.)

“You're all under arrest, under authority of the Royal Night Guard, for, um... threatening a Royal Guard!” I tell them, doing my best to exude confidence.

Apparently, they're too dumb to be intimidated, though, because they keep slowly coming toward me.

No problem. Like I said, I'm an elite warrior. I pounce on the one in the middle, pushing his head down into the carpet. As he struggles beneath me, the two others raise their clubs, getting ready to swing.

It's in that moment when I – as usual – come up with an ingenious plan. When the time is right, I simply duck down, letting the other two stallions' swinging clubs go right over my head ... and into each other's. Bang-bang, and down they both go.

I hop off of the middle one, and I'm giggling and skipping with glee as I make my way down the hallway. I won't be able to go back out through the chimney – it's too dirty. So I'll have to go out through the front door after unlocking it from the inside.

When I get to the entranceway, though, there are a bunch more mean-looking stallions there, all of them between me and the door to freedom.

“You'll be sorry for this,” one says.

“Nobody but nobody messes with the boss's wife and gets away wit' it.”

The closest one pats his club against his other hoof, then pulls a sharp wooden stake out of his belt. “Boss said I should be prepared for vamponies today. Guess he's right like usual. Your time's just run out, little vampony.”

My time has run out? Time... I glance up at the grandfather clock on the wall to the left. It's 4:29 ... and my date is at 4:30!

Eyes going wide, I dart out from the room. The voices call after me, “Yeah, you'd better run!” and “We'll hunt you down, vampony!” but I ignore them and rush out through the back door of the mansion, quickly taking flight.

I have to go fast, or I'm going to totally miss my date with Taffy Winkle!

Author's Note:

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